In one moment, the boy Julian, breathless with joy, came flying into the room, to say that papa was returned, with Lamington and Sam Brewer; and that he was himself to ride Black Hastings to the stable. In the second the tramp of the honest Knights heavy jack-boots was heard, as, in his haste to see his lady, he ascended the staircase by two steps at a time. He burst into the room; his manly countenance and disordered dress showing marks that he had been riding fast; and without looking to any one else, caught his good lady in his arms, and kissed her a dozen of times. Blushing, and with some difficulty, Lady Peveril extricated herself from Sir Geoffreys arms; and in a voice of bashful and gentle rebuke, bid him, for shame, observe who was in the room.
One, said the Countess, advancing to him, who is right glad to see that Sir Geoffrey Peveril, though turned courtier and favourite, still values the treasure which she had some share in bestowing upon him. You cannot have forgot the raising of the leaguer of Latham House!
The noble Countess of Derby! said Sir Geoffrey, doffing his plumed hat with an air of deep deference, and kissing with much reverence the hand which she held out to him; I am as glad to see your ladyship in my poor house, as I would be to hear that they had found a vein of lead in the Brown Tor. I rode hard, in the hope of being your escort through the country. I feared you might have fallen into bad hands, hearing there was a knave sent out with a warrant from the Council.
When heard you so? and from whom?
It was from Cholmondley of Vale Royal, said Sir Geoffrey; he is come down to make provision for your safety through Cheshire; and I promised to bring you there in safety. Prince Rupert, Ormond, and other friends, do not doubt the matter will be driven to a fine; but they say the Chancellor, and Harry Bennet, and some others of the over-sea counsellors, are furious at what they call a breach of the Kings proclamation. Hang them, say I! They left us to bear all the beating; and now they are incensed that we should wish to clear scores with those who rode us like nightmares!
What did they talk of for my chastisement? said the Countess.
I wot not, said Sir Geoffrey; some friends, as I said, from our kind Cheshire, and others, tried to bring it to a fine; but some, again, spoke of nothing but the Tower, and a long imprisonment.
I have suffered imprisonment long enough for King Charless sake, said the Countess; and have no mind to undergo it at his hand. Besides, if I am removed from the personal superintendence of my sons dominions in Man, I know not what new usurpation may be attempted there. I must be obliged to you, cousin, to contrive that I may get in security to Vale Royal, and from thence I know I shall be guarded safely to Liverpool.
You may rely on my guidance and protection, noble lady, answered her host, though you had come here at midnight, and with the rogues head in your apron, like Judith in the Holy Apocrypha, which I joy to hear once more read in churches.
Do the gentry resort much to the Court? said the lady.
Ay, madam, replied Sir Geoffrey; and according to our saying, when miners do begin to bore in these parts, it is for the grace of God, and what they there may find.
Meet the old Cavaliers with much countenance? continued the Countess.
Faith, madam, to speak truth, replied the Knight, the King hath so gracious a manner, that it makes every mans hopes blossom, though we have seen but few that have ripened into fruit.
You have not, yourself, my cousin, answered the Countess, had room to complain of ingratitude, I trust? Few have less deserved it at the Kings hand.
Sir Geoffrey was unwilling, like most prudent persons, to own the existence of expectations which had proved fallacious, yet had too little art in his character to conceal his disappointment entirely. Who, I, madam? he said; Alas! what should a poor country knight expect from the King, besides the pleasure of seeing him in Whitehall once more, and enjoying his own again? And his Majesty was very gracious when I was presented, and spoke to me of Worcester, and of my horse, Black Hastings he had forgot his name, though faith, and mine, too, I believe, had not Prince Rupert whispered it to him. And I saw some old friends, such as his Grace of Ormond, Sir Marmaduke Langdale, Sir Philip Musgrave, and so forth; and had a jolly rouse or two, to the tune of old times.
I should have thought so many wounds received so many dangers risked such considerable losses merited something more than a few smooth words, said the Countess.
Nay, my lady, there were other friends of mine who had the same thought, answered Peveril. Some were of opinion that the loss of so many hundred acres of fair land was worth some reward of honour at least; and there were who thought my descent from William the Conqueror craving your ladyships pardon for boasting it in your presence would not have become a higher rank or title worse than the pedigree of some who have been promoted. But what said the witty Duke of Buckingham, forsooth? (whose grandsire was a Leistershire Knight rather poorer, and scarcely so well-born as myself) Why, he said, that if all of my degree who deserved well of the King in the late times were to be made peers, the House of Lords must meet upon Salisbury Plain!
And that bad jest passed for a good argument! said the Countess; and well it might, where good arguments pass for bad jests. But here comes one I must be acquainted with.
This was little Julian, who now re-entered the hall, leading his little sister, as if he had brought her to bear witness to the boastful tale which he told his father, of his having manfully ridden Black Hastings to the stable-yard, alone in the saddle; and that Saunders though he walked by the horses head, did not once put his hand upon the rein, and Brewer, though he stood beside him, scarce held him by the knee. The father kissed the boy heartily; and the Countess, calling him to her so soon as Sir Geoffrey had set him down, kissed his forehead also, and then surveyed all his features with a keen and penetrating eye.
He is a true Peveril, said she, mixed as he should be with some touch of the Stanley. Cousin, you must grant me my boon, and when I am safely established, and have my present affair arranged, you must let me have this little Julian of yours some time hence, to be nurtured in my house, held as my page, and the playfellow of the little Derby. I trust in Heaven, they will be such friends as their fathers have been, and may God send them more fortunate times!
Marry, and I thank you for the proposal with all my heart, madam, said the Knight. There are so many noble houses decayed, and so many more in which the exercise and discipline for the training of noble youths is given up and neglected, that I have often feared I must have kept Gil to be young master at home; and I have had too little nurture myself to teach him much, and so he would have been a mere hunting hawking knight of Derbyshire. But in your ladyships household, and with the noble young Earl, he will have all, and more than all, the education which I could desire.
There shall be no distinction betwixt them, cousin, said the Countess; Margaret Stanleys son shall be as much the object of care to me as my own, since you are kindly disposed to entrust him to my charge. You look pale, Margaret, she continued, and the tear stands in your eye? Do not be so foolish, my love what I ask is better than you can desire for your boy; for the house of my father, the Duke de la Tremouille, was the most famous school of chivalry in France; nor have I degenerated from him, or suffered any relaxation in that noble discipline which trained young gentlemen to do honour to their race. You can promise your Julian no such advantages, if you train him up a mere home-bred youth.
I acknowledge the importance of the favour, madam, said Lady Peveril, and must acquiesce in what your ladyship honours us by proposing, and Sir Geoffrey approves of; but Julian is an only child, and
An only son, said the Countess, but surely not an only child. You pay too high deference to our masters, the male sex, if you allow Julian to engross all your affection, and spare none for this beautiful girl.
So saying, she set down Julian, and, taking Alice Bridgenorth on her lap, began to caress her; and there was, notwithstanding her masculine character, something so sweet in the tone of her voice and in the cast of her features, that the child immediately smiled, and replied to her marks of fondness. This mistake embarrassed Lady Peveril exceedingly. Knowing the blunt impetuosity of her husbands character, his devotion to the memory of the deceased Earl of Derby, and his corresponding veneration for his widow, she was alarmed for the consequences of his hearing the conduct of Bridgenorth that morning, and was particularly desirous that he should not learn it save from herself in private, and after due preparation. But the Countesss error led to a more precipitate disclosure.
That pretty girl, madam, answered Sir Geoffrey, is none of ours I wish she were. She belongs to a neighbour hard by a good man, and, to say truth, a good neighbour though he was carried off from his allegiance in the late times by a d d Presbyterian scoundrel, who calls himself a parson, and whom I hope to fetch down from his perch presently, with a wannion to him! He has been cock of the roost long enough. There are rods in pickle to switch the Geneva cloak with, I can tell the sour-faced rogues that much. But this child is the daughter of Bridgenorth neighbour Bridgenorth, of Moultrassie Hall.
Bridgenorth? said the Countess; I thought I had known all the honourable names in Derbyshire I remember nothing of Bridgenorth. But stay was there not a sequestrator and committeeman of that name? Sure, it cannot be he?
Peveril took some shame to himself, as he replied, It is the very man whom your ladyship means, and you may conceive the reluctance with which I submitted to receive good offices from one of his kidney; but had I not done so, I should have scarce known how to find a roof to cover Dame Margarets head.
The Countess, as he spoke, raised the child gently from her lap, and placed it upon the carpet, though little Alice showed a disinclination to the change of place, which the lady of Derby and Man would certainly have indulged in a child of patrician descent and loyal parentage.
I blame you not, she said; no one knows what temptation will bring us down to. Yet I did think Peveril of the Peak would have resided in its deepest cavern, sooner than owed an obligation to a regicide.
Nay, madam, answered the Knight, my neighbour is bad enough, but not so bad as you would make him; he is but a Presbyterian that I must confess but not an Independent.
A variety of the same monster, said the Countess, who hallooed while the others hunted, and bound the victim whom the Independents massacred. Betwixt such sects I prefer the Independents. They are at least bold, bare-faced, merciless villains, have more of the tiger in them, and less of the crocodile. I have no doubt it was that worthy gentleman who took it upon him this morning
She stopped short, for she saw Lady Peveril was vexed and embarrassed.
I am, she said, the most luckless of beings. I have said something, I know not what, to distress you, Margaret Mystery is a bad thing, and betwixt us there should be none.
There is none, madam, said Lady Peveril, something impatiently; I waited but an opportunity to tell my husband what had happened Sir Geoffrey, Master Bridgenorth was unfortunately here when the Lady Derby and I met; and he thought it part of his duty to speak of
To speak of what? said the Knight, bending his brows. You were ever something too fond, dame, of giving way to the usurpation of such people.
I only mean, said Lady Peveril, that as the person he to whom Lord Derbys story related was the brother of his late lady, he threatened but I cannot think that he was serious.
Threaten? threaten the Lady of Derby and Man in my house! the widow of my friend the noble Charlotte of Latham House! by Heaven, the prick-eared slave shall answer it! How comes it that my knaves threw him not out of the window?
Alas! Sir Geoffrey, you forget how much we owe him, said the lady.
Owe him! said the Knight, still more indignant; for in his singleness of apprehension he conceived that his wife alluded to pecuniary obligations, if I do owe him some money, hath he not security for it? and must he have the right, over and above, to domineer and play the magistrate in Martindale Castle? Where is he? what have you made of him? I will I must speak with him.
Be patient, Sir Geoffrey, said the Countess, who now discerned the cause of her kinswomans apprehension; and be assured I did not need your chivalry to defend me against this discourteous faitour, as Morte dArthur would have called him. I promise you my kinswoman hath fully righted my wrong; and I am so pleased to owe my deliverance entirely to her gallantry, that I charge and command you, as a true knight, not to mingle in the adventure of another.
Lady Peveril, who knew her husbands blunt and impatient temper, and perceived that he was becoming angry, now took up the story, and plainly and simply pointed out the cause of Master Bridgenorths interference.
I am sorry for it, said the Knight; I thought he had more sense; and that this happy change might have done some good upon him. But you should have told me this instantly It consists not with my honour that he should be kept prisoner in this house, as if I feared anything he could do to annoy the noble Countess, while she is under my roof, or within twenty miles of this Castle.
So saying, and bowing to the Countess, he went straight to the gilded chamber, leaving Lady Peveril in great anxiety for the event of an angry meeting between a temper hasty as that of her husband, and stubborn like that of Bridgenorth. Her apprehensions were, however, unnecessary; for the meeting was not fated to take place.
When Sir Geoffrey Peveril, having dismissed Whitaker and his sentinels, entered the gilded chamber, in which he expected to find his captive, the prisoner had escaped, and it was easy to see in what manner. The sliding panel had, in the hurry of the moment, escaped the memory of Lady Peveril, and of Whitaker, the only persons who knew anything of it. It was probable that a chink had remained open, sufficient to indicate its existence to Bridgenorth; who withdrawing it altogether, had found his way into the secret apartment with which it communicated, and from thence to the postern of the Castle by another secret passage, which had been formed in the thickness of the wall, as is not uncommon in ancient mansions; the lords of which were liable to so many mutations of fortune, that they usually contrived to secure some lurking place and secret mode of retreat from their fortresses. That Bridgenorth had discovered and availed himself of this secret mode of retreat was evident; because the private doors communicating with the postern and the sliding panel in the gilded chamber were both left open.
Sir Geoffrey returned to the ladies with looks of perplexity. While he deemed Bridgenorth within his reach, he was apprehensive of nothing he could do; for he felt himself his superior in personal strength, and in that species of courage which induces a man to rush, without hesitation, upon personal danger. But when at a distance, he had been for many years accustomed to consider Bridgenorths power and influence as something formidable; and notwithstanding the late change of affairs, his ideas so naturally reverted to his neighbour as a powerful friend or dangerous enemy, that he felt more apprehension on the Countesss score, than he was willing to acknowledge even to himself. The Countess observed his downcast and anxious brow, and requested to know if her stay there was likely to involve him in any trouble, or in any danger.